


what's left of home

by micheoffy



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Alistair Can't Cook, Canon Compliant, Canon verse, City Elf Origin, City Elves, F/F, Fluff, Jealous Leliana, Leliana's Song, Marjolaine's Betrayal, Nelaros' Ring, POV Leliana, Requited Crush, Requited Love, Rings, Some Humor, Tabris Is A Useless Lesbian But Leliana Loves Her Anyway, The Blight (Dragon Age), Wedding Rings, Zevran Is The Best Wingman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-19
Updated: 2018-07-19
Packaged: 2019-06-12 18:31:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15345960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/micheoffy/pseuds/micheoffy
Summary: Leliana had noticed it first - the little golden ring that circled around the Grey Warden’s finger, always too fast, the inscription a blur. Kaylan would wear it on alternating fingers from time to time, but the gold band’s home remained on her left hand. Ironically, the question never formed on Leliana’s lips to ask.





	what's left of home

**Author's Note:**

> Biggest shout out to Ollie - without whose continued and constant support and friendship, no work would ever branch out of me. Thank you for reading this even though you have no idea what a Dragon Age is, seriously, it means the world <3

It was all too easy to get swept up in the way Kaylan moved, her limber body carrying their team in every situation they encountered. Since being recruited in Lothering, their relationship evolved so fluidly it was difficult to remember a time Kaylan did not play a part in the Bard’s life. She had that effect on people it seemed: effortless, warm, inviting.  
For their first few quests, reclaiming the Circle of Magi for the mages, defending Redcliffe from the horde of undead, and even recruiting Zevran - Kaylan always sought to do everything in her power to save everyone. To Leliana, it was unlike anything she’d known before. Her former mentor Marjolaine fooled around with the nobles for the sake of the Game only, there were no heroes in her story, only casualties.  
But then again, Leliana barely understood Marjolaine. Her chest tightened at the memories, all the manipulative training, her younger naive self wound so tight around Marjolaine’s finger, tasting bitterly of iron.  
Only, Kaylan’s fingers were so soft for someone accustomed to such a harsh life in an Alienage. During their colder nights at camp, Leliana would sometimes find herself reaching out for the elf’s small hand, sleepily intertwining their fingers together, exchanging warmth. Brushing against the cool metal ring that never seemed to leave. Maybe she hadn’t changed all that much from back then, maybe it was foolish to believe she could trust in someone again. All she knew, is that her heart yearned for Kaylan’s. 

Leliana had noticed it first - the little golden ring that circled around the Grey Warden’s finger, always too fast, the inscription a blur. Kaylan would wear it on alternating fingers from time to time, but the gold band’s home remained on her left hand. Ironically, the question never formed on Leliana’s lips to ask.  
Except for that night. That night, Leliana would finally ask about her Warden’s past. It wasn’t a question borne of curiosity anymore, like the ones Kaylan would ask at the start of their adventures - it was the question that would determine whether or not there was any hope for her. She wouldn’t let herself be heartbroken again, and she absolutely refused to let Kaylan be the one to do that to her. _Of all the people, Maker, let it not be her please_.

“I warned you about veering too far west Alistair, but as Mother would have it you are lucky - too lucky indeed, that your Warden companion has the common sense to keep me in your party. Whatever would you do without your apostate helper?” Groans emitted from both Alistair and Wynne, too weary from the day’s work for any retaliation.

“Oh Morri please you’ll tease poor Alistair to the ground if you keep this up,” Kaylan said firmly, and Alistair thanked the Maker.

However, Leliana saw from the corner of her eye, the exchanging of knowing looks Morrigan and the Warden shared, an intimacy that set her stomach ablaze. They smirked, smirked! At each other, and this she could not stand to watch. Breaking away from the group for a few minutes, Leliana slowly began unravelling her bedroll, setting up her tent by the would-be firepit that night. The group dispersed to their corners, and for the first time that night Zevran manifested his feelings, tiptoeing closer to her hunched frame.

“My dear, do try the wine tonight, it’s sweet enough to wipe that scowl you so enjoy wearing.”

“Don’t be ridiculous Zevran, I’m not jealous, who’d be jealous of her,” she said coldly, immeasurably aware of her ugly frown. She knew Zevran’s Crow’s training wasn’t limited to assassin work; and while she valued his asset to the group she was also wary of how much exactly he understood. And how easily she’d let her emotions slip since leaving Orlais.

“Now now, who said anything about jealousy? And what have you to be jealous of, as you said, our dear Morrigan has no business with the Warden.” Zevran took a swig of his flask and handed it to Leliana. She took it, whirled it around for a second, sniffing the cap. She took a tentative sip of the honey wine, interest piqued by Zevran’s choice.

“I do not know what Morrigan has planned, and it’s not my place to question her involvement with the Warden, should they both choose to keep each other’s company or not.”  
Zevran took the flask back from Leliana’s hand, taking in her sulkiness. “My friend what you need is to open your eyes - realise what is right in front of you. Kaylan has no more feelings for Morrigan than she for Alistair. I believe our Warden is merely being... friendly.”

Leliana now looked up, watching as Zevran took another sip of the flask, leaning back against a tree. She considered this and tried to rationalise her feelings; she supposed Zevran was right, Kaylan hadn’t given her reason to doubt herself yet, and there was no use being grumpy forever. 

“I don’t know what to do, how she will react,” she admitted. Zevran only pressed a finger to his lips, tiptoeing quietly as a mouse out of frame once again.

He walked towards the Warden, now feeding her Mabari. Zevran knelt down and Leliana could make out only a few mutterings from the few feet distance between them. Questions swirled around her mind again, had she _really_ just opened up about her romantic frustrations to an assassin? Kaylan glanced over her shoulder towards Leliana, but Leliana pretended not have been caught staring, suddenly becoming very invested in stray grass blades around her.

Kaylan approached her calmly that next moment, like she always did, but Leliana still braced herself. She’d set down the wood the group collected for the fire earlier as Alistair and Wynne set about to prepare dinner over the new fire. “So I guess I win huh, Leli?”

“What?” 

A smile broke across her lips, “The bet of course! I bet you Wynne wouldn’t let Alistair cook on his own anymore since he charred that rabbit last night and everyone got heartburn. You owe me a story. A new one this time, oh pretty please?”

With Kaylan’s big brown eyes, who could refuse her? And it was in that moment that a sudden realisation arose in Leliana, that in order to be able to trust someone again, she’d have to open up herself, dig deep into her past and repressed secrets, let go in order to embrace something new. She grew red, flustering because knowing what story she had to tell this time, her breath caught in her throat. Leliana took a deep breath and began anyway.

“I lied to you, you know? About why I left Orlais. I didn’t feel like talking about it then, what happened to me. Maybe it will affect us, maybe not but, you should know.”

It was Kaylan’s turn to be stunned: of all the stories she could have expected, her Bard’s past was not one of them. Leliana took this opportunity and ran with it.

“I came to Ferelden and the Chantry because I was being hunted in Orlais. I was framed, betrayed by someone I thought I knew and trusted. Marjolaine, she was my mentor. She taught me the bardic arts, how to enchant with words and song, to carry myself like a highborn lady, even to blend in as a servant. The skills I learnt, I used to serve her, my bard master, because I loved her, and because I enjoyed what I did.”

Leliana swallowed hard at Kaylan’s now raised eyebrows. She explained that Marjolaine smuggled Orlesian military papers into Ferelden and asked Leliana and her team, Sketch and Tug, to place them in a Feraldan noble’s personal belongings. But of course she didn’t know at the time, it was only at the last minute that she realised how deep in trouble Marjolaine would be if she were caught. She feared for her love’s life, and what did she get in return? Being handed into Orlesian authorities by the very same person, framed for treason, stabbed in the back. Leliana fled, her pride wounded, her heart broken, her soul lost. Finding peace as a lay sister in the Lothering Chantry had been her only solace for years.

“Until I travelled with you, of course. You changed everything for me Kaylan, everything.”

She sat slowly on her bedroll. She felt afraid to, but traced her eyes back to Kaylan’s, catching her expression after the revelation, finding only melancholy behind her fringe.

“Thank you for trusting me with this Leli. I would never judge you, I hope you know that.”

Kaylan took a few steps and planted herself down next to Leliana, linking their hands like they sometimes would. The Bard’s face loosened, relief flooding her cheeks. Smiling, she knew.

“I never told you about leaving home for the Grey Wardens,” Kaylan started again, placing her head on Leli’s shoulder. “I was betrothed to this man named Nelaros. I’d never met him before, but as per our traditions in the Alienage, my father picked him out for me. I was told many times how lucky I was.”

Leliana didn’t consider this lucky, but she did not interrupt. She was finally hearing, unprompted, the story she wanted to hear most in the world. She gave Kaylan’s hand a quick encouraging squeeze.

“On the day of our marriage, my cousin Soris was to marry his betrothed as well. With everyone congregated out in the open, I don’t know, I suppose we attracted more attention than normal. Our rebellion started with Shianni - this man called Vaughan came, the Arl’s son, threatening to take the women - our family, our friends. She wouldn’t stand for it, she threw a bottle at his head,” Kaylan blurted out a giggle at the memory, “knocked him out cold.” 

Leliana sat and listened to Kaylan’s tale, her heart-wrenching at the bloodshed, not because she empathised with the elves’ captors, but because she couldn’t imagine Kaylan’s suffering. Betrayal from the hand that you trust is the worst form of betrayal, but abusing and torturing a whole group of people for years on end? The oppression that the elves faced from humans for hundreds of years was horrific. There were no words even she could use to ease that sort of wrongdoing. The day Kaylan humbled her lack of knowledge of elves comparing her to those of Orlais, crudely, was a conversation she would never forget.

“I took Vaughan’s head, and every soldier’s I could find in that keep, _I killed them all like the dogs they were_. But they killed him too,” Kaylan removed the ring, at last, and placed it in Leli’s open palm.

Leliana’s eyes widened in curiosity, but not alarm. Kaylan’s story just inspired more trust in her. She inspected the golden band, at last, bearing the inscription, ‘Home’. She traced the outline of the letters, carefully etched, like a promise, and returned the ring.

“I wear it not because I was attached to Nelaros. I wear it because of the inscription, of home, of what that Alienage in Denerim meant to me. Of what it still means to me,” Kaylan sighed, “and of everything I sacrificed. Duncan, the Grey Warden that recruited me, saved me from being imprisoned by the Arl. If it wasn’t for him, I don’t know what would have happened to me.”

Leliana wrapped an arm around Kaylan’s small frame, brought her into her shoulder. Her heart swelled, with gratitude, a small glimpse of hope for the future. For the both of them. The firepit before them now crackled and lit up their small camp.

“I’m here for you,” she said, feeling lighter than she had felt in years.

Zevran watched gleefully, from his own bedroll a few feet away as Leliana turned to him and smiled.


End file.
